


Sass-Off

by paranomasia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, College, M/M, stupid movie references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranomasia/pseuds/paranomasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: Maybe Stiles and Peter having a sass-off, getting worked up until they are suddenly aggressively making-out and still bantering inbetween...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sass-Off

“You know you can’t actually use the word ‘fantabulous’ in a scientific essay, right?”

Stiles groaned and turned around, glaring down Peter who was innocently sitting on his bed a couple meters behind Stiles’ desk, book on his lap. “Dude, you have to stop creeping on me and my coursework. Also, the English language allows me to make new words from mixing two different words, and…”

“The word you’re looking for is  _portmanteau_.” Peter interrupted him with a chuckle, snapping the book shut. “And you are aware that neologisms can really cost you some points?”

“Don’t stumble on the big words, Lon Chaney.” Stiles grumbled out, slumping down in his seat.

Peter only raised an eyebrow. “That reference wasn’t funny anymore after the first time, Jerry Levine.”

Stiles gaped at him, eye twitching. “Oh my god, because of the t-shirts?”

“And the goofy hair.”

“The goofy…” Stiles self-consciously raised his hand, before he gave Peter the best glare he could muster. “You’re one to talk about hair, Danny Zuko.”

“Does that make you Sandy?”

“I don’t need a transformation to be sexy as hell.” Stiles replied haughtily, “But you need a wake-up call to lay of the leather jackets. You’re not 21.”

“Neither are you.” Peter shot back, and Stiles scrunched up his face.

“Next month, you asshole.”

“You like my asshole.”

“I like to stab you in the asshole with a broom” Stiles replied, pushing himself up from his chair and making his way to the little cupboard in the corner. “Fuck this essay. I need a beer.”

“You also need a new wardrobe.”

“You need a new attitude.” Stiles grabbed a bottle of beer from behind a package of cookies, and threw another one at Peter, who easily caught it. “My room mate is actually scared of you.”

“I knew flashing my eyes at him was a good idea.” Peter said contently, before extending his nail and popping off the lid. “I don’t like you rooming with another guy.”

“I don’t like you being a possessive little bitch, but hey, here we are.”

“You’re the one who likes rolling over like one.”

“Oh, ha ha, you’re so hilarious.” Stiles rummaged around for a bottle opener, and cursed when he couldn’t find one. “Mother fucking son of Odin and Oedipus and Jesus fucking Christ.”

“I think you’ve taken enough mythology classes for the year.” Peter grabbed the bottle from his hands and quickly popped the lid, taking a sip.

Stiles whined and reached for the bottle. “Dude, that’s mine, don’t contaminate it.”

“You’ve had my spit on worse places than this.” Peter snorted, and Stiles cursed.

“I don’t know why I ever let you. Your spit is gross.”

“Your dorm is gross.” Peter said pointedly, looking around at the messy dorm room.

Stiles only rolled his eyes. “Your face is gross.”

Peter flicked Stiles’ nose. “Play nice, pup.”

“I’m not even a wolf, that makes literally no sense at all.”

“Your life makes no sense.”

“There you are right.”

“I’m always right.”

“You wish, asshole.”

“Stop being childish.”

“Dickwad.”

“Stiles.”

“Aww, am I offended the widdly-wolfy?”

There was a short silence, but then Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck you.”

“Dildo.”

“Asswipe.”

“Cocksmoker.”

“ _Dog.”_

They stared at each other for a couple moments, and then Peter growled low in his throat. Stiles grinned, and the next thing he knew Peter had grabbed him by the shirt and pressed him against the door. Stiles dropped the bottle as he jumped up, wrapped his legs around Peter’s waist and his arms around the older man’s neck. Their lips mashed together, and Stiles tightened his grip, tangled his fingers in Peter’s hair as he desperately tried to get as close as possible. They broke apart after a minute, and Stiles chuckled when he saw Peter’s eyes flashing blue.  “That one always gets to you.”

“I’m not a dog.” Peter said, eyes on Stiles’ lips, hand sliding underneath Stiles’ shirt, stroking the soft skin of his stomach, fingers following his happy trail. “It’s offensive to call me one.”

“Your face is offensive.” Stiles tried, but he yelped when Peter let his claws slip out and prickle his skin. “Ow.”

“Shut up.” Peter muttered, and when Stiles let out a snort, Peter looked up to meet his eyes. The gleam in Stiles’ eyes should have been a giveaway, but then again, Peter was always a bit distracted around Stiles.

“Make me.”

Peter smirked, and slammed their lips together once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on Tumblr! Rumpelstiles.tumblr.com (:


End file.
